Things we see in a Train Yard
by Thalaba
Summary: One day can change a life. A Theo/Susan oneshot. Takes place after the War.


"It's all sort of. . .blurred, isn't it."

She was right of course. As they walked beside the high white wall, dappled with the years of poor weather, the sights did seem to blur together in a miasma of greys: the grey-green of the rolling hills that stretched on for miles beyond the sleepy little Scottish village; the grey-brown of the ancient cathedral ahead, roof rotted away what could have been a millennia ago; the grey-blue of the River Tay, churning to a lazy music held deep within the earth and stirring the fog and mist that appeared to float above and around the sibling stone homes and curving streets; the grey-white of spindly limbed trees that greeted them upon arrival, fingers reaching in desperation for the warmth of a coming spring. Even he blended well with the surroundings, a mousy-yellow cap of shaggy hair and uninspired sallow skin doing nothing to counterbalance the crispness of nose and chin that showed for all to see that he was truly his father's son. It made sense. Theodore Nott often felt like an old man.

She was right of course. But she was also the exception to the limited palette presented to his travel weary gaze.

Susan Bones was bright ginger locks with strands of ruby red behind her ears and winding down the slope of her brow, pressed smooth by constant repetitive gestures in annoyance of flyaway wisps, the presence of which he could never see whilst confronted with the thickness of her heavy plait. Her cheeks were wind-chapped while the rest of her countenance glowed a pink and peaches gleam, ivory smile enjoying the countless russet freckles that dotted nose and phizog. Her jumper was a vivid emerald that complimented everything else and threw his own brown and trouser ensemble into stark contrast. If he wasn't so indifferent he would be embarrassed for her innate showiness, but beauty could not be denied. And, unfortunately, Susan Bones was beautiful.

Theo hadn't wanted 'beauty' on this trip, hadn't wished for it in any shape or manner. It was supposed to be a pilgrimage, he was supposed to accept his suffering like a man and deal with these distant relative who most obviously hated him with all the poise and humility that could be afforded the grown son of a former convicted Death Eater. There was nothing akin to 'beauty' expected between Kings Cross Station and Glamis, Scotland where his mother's family awaited him.

* * *

**Eight and a Half Hours Ago**

Traveling with Muggles was difficult. They were ignorant of the niceties concerning personal space as far as his experiences went; they were all elbows and large suitcases, and not a single one could restrain themselves from either splashing him with the wet remnants of novelty umbrellas or asking after fags. Theodore didn't smoke. And he had never understood the Muggle infatuation with badly drawn animals. Therefore it was not surprising for him to immediately request first class seating on the six hour train ride North.

What actually constituted first class on said train, however, was.

A sad resemblance to one of those aero-plane seats, with less leg room, and a mini table nailed to the side whose sole purpose was for him to knock his knees against—that's what greeted Theodore as he climbed aboard at Kings Cross, a sedate messenger bag hanging heavy around his chest and a cardstock ticket pressing ink all over the palm of his clenched fist. It was not in a private car, not even a private cubicle, and barely half a foot away four other commuters sat in the foul hell of economy class, stuffed two to a side against a larger table nailed to the wall, whose sole purpose was to strike Theo deaf with the Muggle complaints as they knocked their knees consecutively and loudly demanded their complimentary tea. Theo waited until his ticket was collected, then, forcing his lanky frame to be smaller than reality decreed, decided he would nap until they crossed the Scottish border.

**Six Hours and Twenty Minutes Ago**

He awoke with a crick in his neck, chin tucked into his chest and bag almost crushed beneath his contorted limbs; the train was still moving along but at least the Muggles had stopped haranguing, the quartet slipping in and out of consciousness as much as their infinitesimal music boxes allowed. As unselfconscious as he was like to be, Theo stretched out his long legs. He sighed deeply as an automated voice spoke over the speakers. _"The next stop is Hexham. Hexham. The next stop is Hexham."_

The Muggles were annoyed and it was suddenly time for Theo to find the loo.

It was small.

Small and foul smelling.

And there were three little girls eyeing him suspiciously, clacking buck-toothed on blueberry gum, whilst he re-entered the claustrophobic hallway. It would have been a relief to see a fellow wizard at that point, to share a glance and an imperious tilt of the chin or at least a mutual roll of the eye at the expected folly that was Muggle life. It would have been a pleasant shock to see one of his many Housemates—eons removed from old allegiances he may have been but it was incredibly hard to forget so many years of, if not camaraderie, than stoic diplomacy. Thus, when Theo happened to look up from his awkward slinking back to his first class destination, he _was_ shocked to see a fellow wizard occupying an entire economy class spot. However, that wizard was a female Hufflepuff.

She waved.

"I just wanted to go on holiday," she gushed with an unexpected burble of excitement, almost upsetting her cup of untouched Earl Grey. They had exchanged pleasantries—his forced and formal, she with a pretty smile and not a comment as to why he hadn't Apparated if his dislike for Muggle travel was so apparent. Theo had sat because it seemed like the polite thing to do. She carried a simple blue-zippered backpack, waiting in the empty space near the window for word of future adventure; her green jumper a bright wool streetlight within the blasé colour scheme. Susan laughed softly, nervously, and swiped at a wisp of hair beside her temple, pressing it behind one freckled ear. "I-I've been working in the Ministry—nothing spectacular, just office drudgery," another soft laugh. "I haven't been _anywhere_ in quite some time."

Theo casually turned his face towards the window, partly wishing he could be that rude and simply stare until they reached Edinburgh, but then, compelled by some force he could not name, opened his mouth and spoke.

"I'm going to a family reunion."

Her eyebrows jumped and a truly interested smile emerged.

"A reunion? How wonderful!" She leaned forward, smooth hands resting on the tabletop and eyes delighted. "When was the last time you saw them?" Theo licked his lips and pressed his skull against the poor excuse for a headrest. Perhaps he should have been _that_ rude. 'Family' had never an important part of his vocabulary. No, that's not right; it had never been true concept. Theodore Nott Senior had been distant and ancient, not at all present as a father figure as money consumed most of the man's time; his ghost was still followed by the prejudice that comes with being on the wrong side of the War. Theodore Nott Junior had spent his childhood catered to by strict but affectionate nannies until he was old enough to go to school. There had been a house elf early on if he recalled correctly.

Susan must have taken his extended pause as avoidance of her believed social faux pas and physically withdrew, her hands returning to the vicinity of her lap and her already warm cheeks pinking further in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry Theodore. That was rude of—"

"I haven't seen any of them before. They're my mother's people."

**Five Hours Ago**

"Would you like to have a hand of cards?"

Theo looked over at Susan incredulously then glanced up and down the little corridor.

"You can't possibly mean Exploding Snap." She laughed and smoothed back her hair and produced a regular pack of playing cards from her backpack.

"No, no. Cards! Like 'Go Fish' or 'Gin Rummy?' It would help pass the time."

"I think I can play 'Whist.'"

". . .Let's start with 'Go Fish' and work our way up."

**Two and a Half Hours Ago**

It had never been broadcasted knowledge, the ins and outs of his mother and father's courtship. There were no love letters to look back on and admire, no scrapbooks of pressed roses or multitude of photographs that chronicled their lives in the years before Theo's arrival. His mother was, from all accounts, young, flighty, and the first Witch her family had produced in over two hundred years. She had died bringing him in to the world and so he could only learn by hearsay and conjecture. She was a Mudblood, and Theo had not known of that slanderous fact until his father's will had been opened four months ago, quite late by legal standards but Theo couldn't fault his father's persistence. They had lived in dangerous times.

Waverly Station wasn't very large but it was open, with high metal ceilings and numerous shops to stop in. There were the sweet smells of packaged watermelon and the sounds of rustling paperbacks. Theo didn't have time to stop though; he had another train to catch and a duty to perform. It sat like a yoke around his shoulders, finally meeting the Grandmother he had never known existed, various Aunts and Uncles and Cousins and _family friends_ who would all have questions he wouldn't know how to answer and most likely demands and. . .accusations.

Theo blinked and needlessly checked his pockets.

"Edinburgh is such a comfortable city," Susan sighed happily beside him, her backpack hitched high upon her shoulders. "I was here once when I was little." Theo nodded without knowing why. He couldn't explain why he finished the journey with her in the cheaper seat, actually having—if not actively participating in—civil conversations about nothing at all, small talk mostly which Theodore usually despised and yet with Susan, with her genuine manner, he did not find himself annoyed. It didn't matter; he shook the feeling off.

"Good travel then. I have to catch another up to Dunkeld."

"Truly?" She had spoken quickly, before Theo could even turn, and then her eyebrows jumped, her smile waving in what he thought was muffled excitement but for what purpose could not fathom. "Me too—I-I mean I'm going there myself! There's a fourteenth century cathedral that I'm dying to see!" Theo's jaw sagged, not dropped. "I just. . .have to find the loo first. . ." He inexplicably asked if she wanted him to wait and was rewarded—he felt rewarded—with another soft smile.

"That would be lovely."

* * *

He needed to be rid of her. It was inexcusable but a small part of his reptilian brain, a part that wanted to survive and protect himself, wanted to push her into the wall and return at a run to the ratty little train station with it's rusty metalwork and peeling paint. Glamis and the reunion were not far away and even though Susan's presence had been unwanted, unasked for, and unparalleled, Theo had no desire to have her witness his complete ruin and warranted humiliation at the hands of relatives who had no reason _but_ to hate him. If he had met Blaise or one of his older schoolmate's on that London train they would have shared a glance and that would have been it, there would have been no conversation or soft smiles or continued travel—Merlin, she was too soft! And it had been years since he had experienced anything close to the warmth of those smiles and Theo knew he had done nothing to deserve it or the beauty she radiated.

They walked passed the restored Jacobite Little Houses and made their way onto the cathedral grounds, an enraptured gasp falling from Susan's lips.

"Well this is a surprise," she breathed, immediately wandering over to the river bank. Theo gave another mute nod and followed. There was no blurring in this corner. The grass was lush and the water blue and the giant tree roots seemed to thrum underneath the soil. It hurt his eyes. She sat down upon a wooden bench and began to vigorously rub her thigh. She laughed and shook her head at his concerned look, a look he was unaware of making.

"It's alright, it's just my leg. The long sitting and then sudden walking—it acts up now and then." Theo sat and placed his bag down, absentmindedly adjusting Susan's as well.

"What's wrong with your leg?" It was uncouth but direct. He watched her wince then seemed to awaken and laugh again.

"That's right, you weren't there. I ah—I splinched myself sixth year, took my whole leg off."

Theo blanched. He had heard of every sort of minor splinching injury, chunks of flesh or lost fingers, a bald patch or two if Crabbes' stories could be believed. But to splinch her whole leg? The next direct question was preparing itself on his tongue, teeth and palate ready to form the words. . .and then Theo automatically looked away, his gaze following the river and beyond. Sixth year. The dates would add up and now instead of _why_ Theo could only lament _why not?_ It would be the year of the first open Ministry attacks. It would be the year her aunt had been murdered. He didn't ask about her obvious lack of concentration.

"Is that reunion of yours being held around here?"

Susan's innocent question was bright and perky and Theo didn't like feeling that was because his silence had unnerved her, that she saw what he was thinking and didn't wish him to dwell on _her_ pain. He sighed in frustration.

"No it's in Glamis. I have to get another train." Theo had planned his breaks accordingly.

"Truly? Me too—"

"No you don't."

His voice was rough as he chuckled meanly and Susan stopped the movements on her leg. "You **don't** have a ticket to Glamis. You didn't **have** to come here with me," he made a gesture at the land around them that was almost a punch. "And you certainly didn't have to **wave** at me in the train!" His voice had risen in volume and Theo hated himself for causing Susan to draw back as well as for the unexplainable guilt it caused him. He didn't know her! There was no point in niceties or appreciation of her glamour. He dragged blunt nails sharply against his palm and stood, taking three steps towards the river. "I think you're a bloody slag who had nothing better to do in her pathetic life today than follow me around."

In the silence that trailed his statement Theo wished he could vanish his own vocal chords but even that would be too generous. He was a truly worthless being and could only content himself with knowing he was doing it for Susan's own good. He had nothing to offer such warmth and pretty smiles.

". . .I am a little pathetic," she said from the bench. "And you're right, I have followed you around. But it's because—" Theo heard her swallow but couldn't turn around to see if she was crying. "I bhad/b to get away from the Ministry."

"What?" he scoffed, folding his arms. Theo could hear her stand but she didn't approach.

"I took a position there to make my Da happy," she began. "It's safe now, it was tradition—but Merlin, it's worse than school!" He imagined Susan with her fists clenched and flushed cheeks and knew without a doubt that she was not taking about her workload. "Every day it's another question or pitying glance, and the whispers when no one thinks I'm listening—" Theodore's arm was suddenly grasped by a hand with more strength than he believed possible coming from her, and jerked around. She hadn't been crying but it wasn't far off. "I'm the niece of the great Amelia _Susan_ Bones. . .but I'm the only Bones left! Then you said you were going to a reunion and—and I wanted to live vicariously though you I suppose." She sniffed and smiled and looked at the river, smoothed back a few wisps. "I wanted desperately to have a family waiting somewhere for me."

Theo stopped himself from reaching out and pulling her to his chest. He stopped himself from touching those ruby strands as if he had the right to comfort and console. Instead he opened his mouth, and, with each word, Theo's brow became a deeper furrow.

"I'm a bloody bloody coward."

"What? W-why?"

A breeze whipped up from down river and sent a shower of dew falling down upon them from spindly wet leaves.

"Because rail is the longer way around and I wanted to put this off as long as possible." He coughed and followed her lead of avoiding eye contact. "I still have my prejudices—I can't help how I was raised—"

"How are you a coward?" Susan repeated.

"I'm a coward because even though in my mind I refer to them as Muggles, I am swimming in fear that these people will utterly despise me."

Again it was Susan who was brave enough to touch grab his arm, her face awash with confusion.

"How could you say that? How could you even _think_ that?! Theo, these people are your family--"

"And I killed their daughter!" he ripped his arm away and took two staggering steps. His jaw was practically locked and there was a cold sweat spreading beneath his collar. "I killed her," he mumbled, ". . .being born. How could they possibly forgive that when she left with my father and they never saw her again?"

He didn't realize Susan was holding him until the scent of her hair invaded his senses and his own hands gripped her shoulders like a life-line. He had never said those words before, knew logically that the sentiment was maudlin and ridiculous and yet. . .it was exactly how he had felt all his life, that things could have been so different if his mother had lived and **he** had been the one to cut her life short. Susan was smoothing his own hair now with her soft hands, rubbing firm soothing circles upon his back and whispering things he would have expected to hear from a Hufflepuff, all very endearing and trite, and he couldn't push her away. They stood there by the river, in the increasing shadow of the cathedral, and vaguely watched a purple hue traverse the horizon. Susan was the one to pull back.

"I think we should go now."

"Susan," he shook his head and blinked hard. "You don't have a ticket."

She shrugged and his time Theo gently stopped her from pressing back her hair.

"We can take the bus."

* * *

**One Hour Later**

The child that greeted them behind the newly painted door at the end of a short path beyond a harmless iron gate didn't say anything, simply hung on to the door knob and chewed his gum with loud smacking bubbles between his missing front teeth. Laughter echoed out from the house and so did a strong aroma of curry and fish and chips, and various other food stuffs that were probably being handed around potluck style.

"Hello," Theo gave a short nod. The boy blinked up at him and returned the same nod.

"'Lo."

". . .My name is Theodore. And this," he indicated the woman standing next to him, "is Susan. May we come in?"

The child sized them both up then let the door swing open, running back from whence he came crying out "Mum! Some poncy stranger's here!" Beside him Susan giggled but let him take his time stepping over the threshold. There was the echo of several footsteps coming towards them and Theo had to swallow back the thought that perhaps he should have just returned to London.

For the life of him though, not a single one of those steps sounded angry.

* * *

**One Year Later**

Traveling with Muggles was difficult. . .but when accompanied by his partner the toil and struggle was nonexistent. Where a year ago Theo had began his journey in silent fear and guilt, with Susan by his side—her bright smiles and warm eyes abundant and given freely—leaving London for the North was every bit the adventure as it should have been from the start. He felt light, and not at all above returning chuckle for chuckle as the beautiful redhead next to him laughed at his questing hand as it frequently searched out that ticklish spot above the waistband of her trousers. Theo fell asleep with Susan's head on his shoulder, her arm wrapped lazily, gently, around his waist.

So this was what it felt like to be _somewhat_ young and in love?

They were going to follow the same route: London to Edinburgh to Dunkeld to Glamis. His mother's family. . ._his_ family. . .were expecting them. He had a new cousin, a baby had been born and there were celebrations to be had. After the hours spent on top of each other and yet apart on the first leg of the journey, Theo was ready to implement a change in plans once they reached the Scottish capital. They hailed a cab on the bridge, Susan squealing as Theo dragged her along at a run, their rolling luggage clattering as it bounced in Theo's grip. "The Novatel, and quickly," he demanded, Susan's lips pressing against the side of his neck, laughing, front teeth scratching. The family could spare them for another day.

The hotel room was well lit and sleek, modern and clean, but all he cared about was the bed which Susan demonstrated with one leap was perfectly capable of servicing their needs.

Her lips were wet and tasted of honey underneath his own. Her arms—ever open, ever welcoming—twined around his neck. Theo had learned to accept with pleasure how much Susan seemed to need him, desire him close and closer still, when his life up until she appeared had been about distance and keeping oneself aware, but closed off, from others. Her sweater slipped off like silk, like a second skin, and her delicate freckled flesh was revealed to his hands and greedy gaze. She made him incredibly greedy—for her touch, for her taste. . .her love.

As he breathed in her scent, listened to her slight gasp as he nuzzled the generous curve of her breast, Theodore licked his lips and met her stare. Susan tilted her head on a sigh.

"Theo. . .what is it?"

His mouth began to pull up on either side, far enough for his cheeks to ache with the strain and yet he never wished to be without it, wanted to be as happy as he was at this moment for the rest of his life.

"Theo!" Susan giggled. "What is it?!"

Theo dropped down to place a firm kiss upon her mouth.

"Marry me."


End file.
